


Worlds Colliding

by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)



Category: California Solo (2012), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, AnyLacey, Anyacey, Anyelle, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Drug Use, F/M, Lachlan x Lacey, Marijuana, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equipoise/pseuds/TheScholarlyStrumpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lachlan is back in California to build a better life and finally be in his daughter's life. He's 6 months sober and really getting his life on track. He cannot afford to heed distractions or temptations. Especially not in the form of his alluring party-girl neighbor, Lacey...</p><p> </p><p>Rating will likely go up :-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if there's even an audience for this, but I'm enjoying writing it, so I hope someone will want to read it...
> 
> There is likely to be smut pretty soon :-)

Lachlan had been back in California less than a week when he moved up to Los Angeles. He had intended to go straight back to the farm and that lovely isolated house in the desert. The house had been foreclosed and there wasn’t a farm for miles that would hire him. His reputation even preceded him into the local bars, he found, when he stopped in to make a quick phone call. On the phone, Beau suggested a change of scenery, somewhere a little closer to his daughter. Somewhere with public transit. He flinched as she emphasized that last part.  The truth stung – getting a driver’s license again, with his record, would be damn near impossible right now.

An old friend was headed to the city, so he rode along. The conversation was stilted and the cab smelled like beer. Lachlan’s mouth watered, despite the staleness of the scent. It had been 6 months without a drink. 6 months living with all the ugliness inside, no fuzzy escape to oblivion waiting at the bottom of the next bottle. His skin felt thin and dry. He was sure he would tear like crepe paper, any minute. No one else seemed to notice this, though. So, it may have been his imagination.

Beau met him near her apartment and it was as though no time had passed. He nearly strained himself, keeping his focus off of her long legs in those white shorts and on the advice she was giving about living in the city. She walked him through a few of the neighborhoods she thought might suit his needs. The dreaded boyfriend was out of town with some buddies, but Beau did not invite him over for dinner. Apparently, she had learned her lesson the last time. He tried not to look like a kicked dog when she left him at a local motel. He lay back on the cheap sheets and considered his prospects. He would need to obtain a work visa somewhere before he could even think about leasing a flat. The only things he really knew how to do were farming and music. Beau’s suggestion of giving private music lessons was beginning to look less and less absurd.

Arianwen didn’t know he was in town, yet. It would be a surprise. He wanted to establish himself just a little first, get settled in somewhere she wouldn’t be ashamed to visit. They had been corresponding regularly, exchanging emails and even a phone call or two. She had flown out to visit him the first month after he got back to Scotland. There wasn’t much to entertain a teenage girl, but she seemed content to take walks and play guitar together. He would never be entirely sure how someone like him could have been blessed to even know a daughter like her. He cursed out loud, thinking of how many years he had missed, buried in his selfishness. He would do right by her. He’d even be there, sober and proud, when she graduated high school. That is, if she’d have him. That tremulous thread of happiness lulled him to sleep at last.

The next morning, he decided it was time to stop hiding from his music. To be sure, his name in the business was not the best asset, but it was not the worst. He went to the library and did a search for any kind of work as a musician. Nothing paid very much, but it was a start. He sent out emails and made all the calls he could make. It took a few days, but a friend of a friend of a friend came through – the city college had an opening in the music department. The interview was on a Tuesday.  There was a bus line near the motel that would take him most of the way there. It was better than relying on Beau for rides.

Tuesday morning found him gripping the rail of the bus in one hand and a resume in the other. His guitar case strapped to his back. The man who interviewed him was wearing a threadbare suit and scuffed shoes. He introduced himself as “Ed”. Ed straightened his tie as he studied Lachlan’s scanty resume.

“You were in a band, Mr. Macaladach?”

Lachlan fought the urge to correct the pronunciation of his last name. “I was, yes. A rather successful one, back in the day. Please, call me Lachlan.” When Ed glanced up, he forced a smile.

 “We don’t need a rockstar, Lachlan, we need a real musician.” Ed’s voice, Lachlan decided, was what bees must sound like if they ever got really bored. “I’ve seen your record.” Ed cleared his throat pointedly. “None of that crazy party lifestyle will fit in here.”

Lachlan bit back a retort about college being the prime time for a party lifestyle. Now was not the time for pride. He’d fucked up and he needed to make this right. Now was the time to toe the line like a good boy. Play their game, just a little bit. “I understand that, completely. The crazy party days are a bit behind me, now. I’m in AA and just looking to make an honest life for myself.”

 “You’ve never been a teacher.” The resume dropped to Ed’s desk.

True, he had no official experience as a teacher, but he knew how to teach. He had, after all, been the one to first place a guitar in his brother’s hands. He dug his nails into his palms, as the bile rose in his throat with the memory. “No, but I taught myself. And I have given lessons.”

Ed nodded toward the guitar that Lachlan had propped against the desk when he sat down. “Well, let’s hear something, if you don’t mind?”

Lachlan obliged eagerly. He’d been playing a lot more now that he had long, sober evenings to fill. He could feel at home almost anywhere with a guitar in his hands. Ed’s face remained passive, but Lachlan was past caring as the music travelled through his hands and out into the stuffy office air

For several minutes after he finished, the only sound in the room was the whirring of the overhead fan. Ed coughed a couple of times. Lachlan’s heart sank into his stomach.

Slowly Ed nodded. “Ok. As long as you can be here on time every day and get along with the students, you should do fine.” Ed rose to his feet and extended a hand, so Lachlan followed suit. They gripped hands warmly, like friends.

Lachlan pushed his hair out of his eyes with his free hand. “So, uh, that’s it?”

“Yep. You start next week. I’ll have HR start the paperwork today. If you can get here early next Monday, we can get everything filled out before the first class.”

Lachlan smiled for the first time all day. “Cheers. Thank you, I mean. Thanks.” He put away the guitar and made his way to the door.

“Uh, Lachlan?”

He turned. “Yeah?”

Ed smiled a little shyly, color in his round cheeks taking a decade off of his face. “I was a fan of the Cranks in high school. Took me a minute there to recognize you but…  Great stuff. Really great. Glad to have you on board.”

“Thanks, Ed. Means a lot. I’m looking forward to it.” With a final nod, they parted ways.

Lachlan exhaled a breath he didn’t remember he’d been holding. The respectable job was all but secured. Next step was getting an apartment. He had a few more calls to make.

****

The week flew by as Lachlan examined one living situation after another. He was too old to be renting a room in someone else’s apartment but there was very little in his price range. He finally lucked into a guest house east of the city. It would be a bit of a commute to work, but the place would be all his. The privacy and the price were well worth it. The owner of the house rented out the basement and a couple rooms, as well, but he was assured the other tenants were all quiet and cordial. He signed on immediately and called Beau to brag of his success. Her line was busy, again, and this time he didn’t feel like leaving a message. He had more important things to worry about, like getting the place ready to show Arianwen. It had come furnished with a bed and a couple of tables. The rest was easy enough to obtain.

He spent the Sunday before his new job started cleaning and organizing the space. He got some varnish in his hair and sweat through two t-shirts in the process. When it was all done, though, he puffed his chest out a little with pride. Yes, this is how a responsible adult should do things. He was on his way. For the first time in months, he wished he could have a drink just to celebrate, and not to drown.

From his living room (that was also the bedroom and most of the kitchen) he could hear music playing. He peered out of his front window, positioned directly across from the entrance that led to the basement apartment. The house was dark, but the light in the basement window, positioned just at ground level and open just a few inches, was on. Movement caught his eye – a tendril of smoke curling upward near the window. For a moment he was ready to run over with a hose, but then he sniffed the air. He sniffed again. He smiled to himself. It might just be time to meet the new neighbor.

There was nothing he could bring over and asking for a cup of sugar seemed too clichéd. He settled instead for grabbing his guitar before knocking on the basement door. There was no response at first, probably because the music was turned up so loudly. He vaguely recognized the band as one of his contemporaries. He knocked once more, a heavier thudding sound just this side of polite. The door swung open to reveal a petite girl with a messy top knot wearing a ripped band shirt and a pair of panties… and nothing else.

“Yeah?”

“I’m….” Lachlan choked on his greeting, trying to look anywhere but her exposed lower body. “I’m your new neighbor. Just heard you were in and thought I’d stop by… say hi, yeah?”

The girl studied him with slightly glassy blue eyes, tilting her head to one side. “Mmkay.”

His eyes flicked unbidden to the lit joint in her hand.

She caught the glance, set the joint down in an ashtray near the door, and crossed her arms. “It’s legal. I got a prescription. Are you a cop?” She had a husky, slightly accented voice. Australian, if he wasn’t mistaken.

He shook his head vehemently, still tongue tied by her brashness and near nudity. “No. Just a neighbor.”

A slow smile filled her pretty face. “So, you caught a whiff and came to join the party, huh? Hey, that’s cool. The more the merrier.” She stood back from the door, allowing him to enter. As he took a step forward, she laid a hand on his chest. “This is just being neighborly though; don’t think you can take liberties because I let you in.”

He frowned “I wouldn’t think of it.”

Her delicate features turned serious for a moment as she studied him. “I think I believe you.” She removed her hand and let him the rest of the way through the doorway. “You want a beer?”

“No, thank you.” Her room as was not what he had expected. There were some band posters hung up, and a few scattered piles of clothes. However, nearly every surface was covered in books. It seemed like a lifetime’s worth of books had been stuffed awkwardly into one room with not nearly enough shelving. The source of the music was a record player in one corner. His lip curled up into a smirk when he saw it. It was nice to see this generation appreciating the older (better) technology. Even if it was often done ironically.  

She turned the music down and removed a pile of books from the only chair in the room, gesturing that he should sit. “So, what’s your name, anyway, neighbor? Or should I just call Mr. Rogers?”

“Lachlan. And you are?”

“Lacey.” She stood in front of him, offering a hand to shake. He kept his eyes steadfastly on her face, despite the pressing temptation to glance down. In his peripheral, he could now see that her t-shirt skimmed the skin just below her bellybutton, while the cotton underwear sat low on her hips. The skin there looked soft and oddly pale for a Californian resident. The image of pressing his lips to that bared skin flooded his mind and he shifted his hips to avoid embarrassment.  He hadn’t been with a woman in quite some time now. Much longer than he cared to remember.

Then she had stepped away and he could breathe again. She clambered onto her bed and grabbed something from the windowsill that looked like a green test tube. When she upended it, a joint fell out. His face must have reflected his surprise because she grinned mischievously and answered his unasked question “Yeah, they sell them like this.” She leaned over the side of the bed to hand it to him. “Need a lighter?”

Lachlan, who had been a smoker practically since he could walk, shook his head. “Thank you for sharing, by the way.” A few drags soon soothed out all the tension from his long and busy day. He handed it back to Lacey and leaned back in the chair.

“So, how did you end up in LA, Lachlan?”

“Was it so obvious that I’m not a native?” He offered a lopsided grin.

She rolled her eyes but the corner of her mouth tugged up. “You’re about as native as I am, by the sound of it. So, spill.”

“It’s a long story…”

“Oh, then skip it. I don’t have that much patience.” Lacey pointed to his guitar. “You wanna play that thing or is it just for show?”

“I didn’t want to be rude. Besides, this is a pretty good album you’ve got on.”

She shrugged and took a swig from a nearby beer bottle. “Their first one was better but it got scratched when I moved, so I have to get a new copy.”

“I may have an MP3 of it somewhere, if you want…”

“Oh, I have practically _everything_ on MP3, but for my personal collection… vinyl forever, baby.” She leaned back against the wall with a dreamy glint in her eye.

Where on earth had this girl come from? He was tempted to ask, but his tongue felt thick and heavy. The last chords of the song died out and he could hear the whisper of the needle as it ran across the end of the record. How long had they been sitting here like this?

He took his guitar in hand. “What would you like to hear?”

She rattled off a few songs until they hit upon one he knew the chords to. As he played, she hummed along, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. He thought about laying down the guitar to walk over and run his tongue along her exposed throat and his fingers nearly fumbled. Somehow, he got through two more choruses.

As the song ended, Lacey jumped to her feet. “Ok, well thanks for the music. Good night.”

“Good night?” He echoed stupidly.

“Yeah, it’s getting late. I got shit to do. So, y’know, go on home. Not like it’s far.” She turned her back to him and picked something blue and sparkly up off of her floor. She shook it out to reveal a dress.

“You’re going out?”

“Yeah, Pops. It’s what girls like me do when they wanna have fun.”

He frowned indignantly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware I was keeping you. Good night.” Guitar firmly in hand, he headed to the door.

She stepped in front of him, her tone softening as she spoke again “Hey, um, you can come over again, if you like. You seem really nice. I hope you are. Really nice, I mean. Not just pretending. I mean, if you’re not…” She inclined her head toward his new home “I know where you sleep.” She gave him a wink and cheeky smile before shoving him out the door and shutting it. Lachlan stood for just a moment too long, heavily contemplating the bizarre turn this evening had taken. He was just about to walk up the narrow steps when he heard the latch again.

She was wearing the blue sequined dress, now, her chestnut curls wrangled into a side ponytail. She leaned on the doorframe, half obscured by the partly open door.

“Are you stalking me, already, Lachlan?”

“I’ve got rather better things to do with my time, Lacey.” He drawled casually, stuffing his free hand in the pocket of his jeans.

“I bet.” She observed dryly. “Well, if you wanted to make a night of it, you should have made a move when you had the chance.”

This took a second longer than it should have to sink in and Lachlan’s brows shot up before he could stop them. Did she mean what she was saying? Or was this just a tease?

“You told me not to ‘take liberties’ and I listened.”

Her lips formed a delicate moue. “I suppose I spoke too soon. I’ve always had a soft spot for a musician type. But I guess it doesn’t really do to go around fucking your neighbors, huh? Oh well…” Her eyes raked a path down his torso that nearly made him blush. She sucked her teeth, looking thoughtful. “Well, Charlie is waiting for me at the club anyway, so, I should get going.” She stepped out, wearing impossibly high black heels and brushed past him up the stairs. He indulged himself by taking in the show she was putting on by swinging her hips with every step. She didn’t look back but gave a quick wave over one shoulder. “See you around, Lachlan!”

Still reeling from the cloud of pot and perfume, Lachlan returned to his new home. Lacey was decidedly intriguing but he knew only too well where an involvement with a girl like that could lead. Lacey was just another of those young free-spirits who would flirt with the attention-starved old man for fun and leave him dry. This Charlie character was undoubtedly her boyfriend. Lachlan had no business even thinking about Lacey’s shapely rear and full lips. He should definitely not recall the way her shirt was cut just low enough on the sides that he could see she hadn’t been wearing a bra. He continued to tell himself this as he took himself in hand in his new shower. He told himself that it was wrong – oh so deliciously wrong – to wonder what Lacey’s lovely mouth would look like as she moaned his name in passion, how her sinuous legs would feel wrapped around his hips as he pounded her into her mattress.

When he was spent, the water was beginning to cool and he felt a wave of something akin to shame. The urge to call Beau crept up on him again and made things a hundred times worse. He bet Beau would hate Lacey on sight. He didn’t know exactly why, just a feeling. Some wicked part of him wanted to introduce them. He sighed loudly and took himself to bed, troubling images of all the things he would never be good enough to have running a loop in his head. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lachlan has trouble making up his mind about Lacey, but there's just something about her....

Over the next week, Lachlan worked on establishing a rhythm to his days. He worked from mid-morning into the late afternoon. The bus had him home just as it was getting dark. He made a small dinner and tried to find ways to occupy the evenings until sleep would come. The music and occasional smoke wafting from Lacey’s apartment become a constant in his life, especially as he kept his windows open in the evening to cool off the small guest house. There was a small air conditioning window unit, but it seemed late in the season to put that to use. The music always stopped before he went to bed, anyway. He usually caught a glimpse of Lacey’s silhouette tottering across the lawn to the back gate, in her skyscraper heels.

It was tempting to step out and engage with her, but he maintained his distance. She was too unpredictable a factor for the life he was currently trying to establish. Far too much of a distraction, he told himself. He did manage to catch Beau on the phone once or twice and they had a couple of pleasant chats. She was slowly starting to warm back up to him and finally accepted a dinner invitation for Saturday night. The boyfriend would be working, so Beau told him that she trusted him to be on his best behavior. He agreed eagerly and rushed to the grocery store for some fresh ingredients.

He was finishing up the legumes when there was a knock.

Beau was early. That had to be a good sign.

Except he opened the door to find Lacey, leaning casually against the frame. She was dressed to the nines, once again.

“Hey music man.” She grinned. One flimsy dress strap slid down her shoulder and he tried not to follow it with his gaze.

“Lacey… I… can I help you?”

“Smells good in here….” She leaned into the doorway and closed her eye to inhale deeply. “Mmm…”

He swallowed hard, pushing down thoughts of other ways he could make her produce that sound. “Thanks. I’ve got a friend coming over for dinner. It’s been a while, so… I , um, why are you here?” His hands came to rest on his hips, for lack of better occupation.

“Actually, I thought I’d see if you wanted to come out with me, tonight. I mean, it’s Saturday and you’ve stayed in, like, every night. But, seeing as you’ve got plans… Maybe next week?”

“I’m not really much for going out, these days.”

Lacey shrugged, “I know you’re kind of a recluse or something. But that doesn’t mean you don’t want a night out on the town sometime. Do you dance?” Her hips swayed suggestively and he was almost too distracted to answer.

“Erm, no.”

She moved closer until their bodies nearly touched. “Not even with me?”

He felt himself twitch from within his jeans. If her hips came any closer, there was no way she wouldn’t notice. Of course, he had no doubt she was already aware of the effect she was having on him. Her face was so close, blue eyes vibrantly meeting his, holding him captive. He could smell the whiskey on her breath. That broke the spell. He grasped her hips and pushed her gently away.

“No.” His voice was gruffer than he would have liked but he refused to blush like a schoolboy in front of her. “I don’t dance either. I’m… I’m afraid I’ve become a bit boring over the years.” He offered a wan smile.

The disappointment was clear on her face, but she merely shrugged again. “Ok. Just trying to be neighborly.” She looked up coyly, from under her lashes.

He should have been tired of this playacting. Just another lost girl, seeking attention in all the wrong places. But God help him if it wasn’t working anyway. He swallowed hard.

“Lacey,  I –“

“Am I interrupting?” Beau’s voice broke through the tension.

Lachlan dropped his hands from Lacey as though she had burned him. “Not at all. Lacey, this is my friend Beau. Beau, this is my, ehm, neighbor, Lacey.”

“Oh, is Lacey joining us for dinner?” Beau’s eyebrow shot up.

“ _Lacey_ is actually on her way out for the evening, but thank you.” There was a purr to Lacey’s voice that struck him as somewhat predatory. The two girls exchanged false pleasantries and Lacey was on her way.

Beau followed him inside. “You live with her?”

“She has the basement apartment, over there.” He gestured. “Why?”

“Just be careful.” Beau shrugged, forcing nonchalance in a manner that just further piqued his curiosity.

“You’re holding out on me…”

Beau exhaled loudly. “It’s nothing. I mean, I’ve seen her around some of the clubs where Paul plays.” She leaned in closer and his heart bobbed in his chest. Her voice lowered conspiratorially. “She’s a man-eater.”

“That’s hardly a revelation.” He chuckled.

“Hey, man, I mean, it’s your life. Live and let live, right?” Beau leaned back looking less than pleased.

“Nothing is happening there, Beau. She’s just a friendly neighbor.” Was Beau jealous? He tried to quash the very tiny hope that occasionally bubbled back up where his ridiculous crush on Beau was concerned.

The girl is question made a noncommittal sound but dropped the subject. Dinner flew by as she related story after story about her life in the city, her club friends, and Paul. He listened earnestly, but fought the urge to interrupt as the stories grew repetitive. She eventually asked about his new job, which segued to a safe musical discussion. It was late when she left, complimenting his cooking and promising to call again soon.

Lachlan found he was surprisingly exhausted. He threw the dishes into the sink for cleaning on Sunday and dragged himself to bed. Beau was at the top of his conscious thoughts, of course, but the swaying hips that eventually danced through his dreams were decidedly not hers.

****

It was two weeks later that Lacey actually spoke to him again. He had just gotten home from work and she was sitting outside with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Hey, Lachlan.” There was a heat wave passing through and she was certainly dressed for it, barefoot, in a bikini top and tiny cutoff shorts. 

He paused. “Yeah?” He tried to look away from her legs. Or at least, he told himself that he tried.

She put the beer down on the step and padded over to him. He had almost forgotten how petite she was out of her stilettos. He felt rather tall standing next to her. Some nearly-forgotten masculine pride rippled with satisfaction. Her smile was unusually shy as she looked up at him and he was immediately suspicious.

“So, I have a little tiny problem and I was kinda hoping you’d be a real gentleman and help a girl out…” She was arching her back just so and he allowed his gaze to follow a bead of sweat as it traced a path over one shoulder and down between her breasts, to be absorbed into the scrap of fabric there. Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she noticed.

“Well, I’m not going to agree to a request before hearing it out…”

“I just could use a little help from a friend. Don’t you want to be friends?” She was moving into his personal space and his pulse began to thrum a little harder. Damn the little minx if she wasn’t enjoying his discomfort. He took a deep breath and stepped away, crossing his arms.

“I have enough friends.”

Her mouth formed a moue of disappointment but she also backed off. “Ok, fine. Be that way.”

He cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. For several minutes they simply looked at one another, neither willing to break.

Finally, her bravado seemed to ebb and her shoulders slumped. “Ok, look, the central air in the house is busted. There’s a guy coming to fix it but he can’t be here til Friday. It’s supposed to get up way past the 100’s this week and I have to sleep during the day ‘cause I work at night. Even with the windows open and my fan on and being in the basement, I just can’t sleep in that kinda crazy-hot weather.” She bit her lip briefly and glanced away before looking back up at him imploringly. “I… I was wondering if you’d let me crash at your place while you’re at work. Since you have the window unit and all.”

He raised both brows now.

“Please?” She persisted. “I… I can pay you. Or buy you weed or something….”

“I wouldn’t ask for your money.” He wondered if he should be offended or flattered by her strange request. There was something distractingly pleasant in seeing her like this – humble and guileless, letting go of her usual artifice.  

“Is that a yes?”

He demurred. “I barely know you. How do I know I can trust you with my things?”

She rolled her eyes and stepped back. “I let you into my place the first day we met not knowing you at all. Besides, I know how much that place rents for; you probably don’t have anything worth stealing, anyway. But don’t worry about it. I’ll see if Charlie will let me crash or something.”

“Well, hold on now. I didn’t say no.”

That stopped her in her tracks. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little.”

“So, apparently you’re kind of an asshole, sometimes.” She put her hands on her hips but her lips twitched with badly concealed amusement.

“I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged, grinning openly.

“Good to know. I can stay til Friday? Just sleeping there during the day, I mean.”

He nodded and they shook on it before returning to their respective homes.

It occurred to him later that perhaps he should feel he’d been bamboozled. There was going to be a beautiful young woman sleeping in his bed, without him there. However, he couldn’t shake the idea that somehow he’d  made a good bargain. Lacey hadn’t been putting on a show for once and he liked what he’d seen of the girl behind the curtain.  If he was lucky, this temporary arrangement might mean another glimpse.

Yes, she was a distraction.

Yes, this was probably a bad idea to even consider.

And yet, there was something about her that made him want to ignore those warning signs in his head. She had approached him, after all. He was certain there were any number of men who would have let her in their door in a heartbeat, including this mysterious Charlie.

It was probably just proximity, he reminded himself.

And yet…

He shrugged it off and went about his evening, blocking out all thoughts of long legs and blue eyes.

The next day, he made sure Lacey had a key before he left. Work was dull and far too long, as everyone’s energy seemed to be sapped by the predicted heat. The ride home on the bus was insufferable, packed in with rows of people all too hot and tired to even complain.

Lacey had cranked the AC as high as it could go when he got home and was sprawled on the bed, nose deep in a book. She looked up and smiled as he entered the room. It was a pretty tableau.

“Fuck me, it’s like paradise in here…” He panted, crossing immediately to stand in front of the AC unit.

She giggled softly as she moved to sit up. “So now you understand why I was in such dire need. I’ve lived through a Los Angeles summer or two and sometimes a fan just won’t cut it.”

“How long have you been here?” He turned around to dry his sweat-slicked back and shivered pleasurably as the perspiration turned icy.

“About three years, now. And you? Is this your first time living in LA?”

He frowned involuntarily, the memory of his first lifetime in the big city still all too fresh and painful.

“No, it’s not.” His mouth suddenly felt dry and he stepped quickly away from the AC toward the kitchen nook. He fumbled for a glass of water, embarrassed to be sifting through a sink full of dirty dishes for a clean cup. It was not a thirst that water would quench, but he had to try. He mentally recited his mantra.

Lacey must have felt the shift in mood. She said nothing, but slid quietly off the bed and moved toward the door.

Awash in unbidden ghosts from his past, he barely noticed her leaving.

The next day, when he got home, Lacey was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at her cell phone. She didn’t look up as he entered but rose from the chair, as if to go.

Glancing around him, he quickly noticed something was different.  “You cleaned.” He blinked at her.

“Don’t act so surprised. It’s not like I don’t know how.” Her dry humor was missing its usual charm, the attempt at levity sounding forced.

“That was… very nice of you.”

She shrugged and placed the key on the kitchen table. “I’m not a nice girl, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do nice things, occasionally.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Say what?” She fiddled with the door handle, not meeting his gaze.

“That you’re not a nice girl. You seem perfectly… lovely, to me.”

She gave a derisive laugh. “Well, Lachlan, like you said before, you barely know me.” And with that she was out of the door.

He cursed himself for not asking her what was wrong, but it would seem too forward to go after her now. Still, he found himself pacing the path between their doors for several minutes before giving into cowardice and returning home to hide behind his guitar.

When he heard her door slam as she left for the night, he flinched and ducked away from the window.

The next day was Friday and that meant the last day Lacey would be in his home. The last chance to really get to know the woman who had nearly phased out Beau completely in even his waking dreams.

It also turned out to be a half day at school, as there was some sort of assembly the students were required to attend, though no one had bothered to inform him. Of course, it probably would have helped if he actually read the academic calendar. He reluctantly sought the bus route home, during the hottest part of the afternoon.

Heading toward door, he was faced with a dilemma. He had a spare key, so he could go in and it was his house, after all. Yet, he feared waking Lacey so early in the day. His fears were abated as he heard music from the other side of the door.

“Lacey, I’m home” He announced loudly, opening the door.

She had the radio on and appeared to have stopped mid dance move to stare at him. “Did you seriously just make that joke?”

He felt himself flush. Even sober, he was excellent at saying the wrong thing in front of women he wanted to impress. “I can go back and try again, if you like.”

She smirked. “It’s ok. I think I can live with one bad joke per day. But please don’t ever make it again.”

“I don’t suppose I’ll have cause to, seeing as I saw the repair truck out front.” He smiled back, trying not to sound so dismayed.

“Oh! Yeah! It should be all fixed today. Not that yours isn’t nice, but I was starting to really miss my own bed.” She paused and glanced at the clock. “Aren’t you home early?”

“Half day at school that I’d forgotten about. But please don’t feel you have to stop…whatever it is you were doing, on my account. I’m not kicking you out or anything.” He was at a loss. It wasn’t as though he’d never see her again, but he had the distinct impression that his chance to be anything but a neighbor was slipping through his fingers. The wiser part of his brain told him to let it go. The girl was trouble. She was a pretty heavy drinker and that couldn’t be good for his recovery. She played the part of the coquette when it suited her whims, but there had been no indication she was even remotely interested in anything but mild flirtation.

But those eyes did things to him he couldn’t put into words. And the way she spoke when she let her guard drop, even for an instant… she needed something, or someone to make it better. He wanted desperately to be that someone. As broken and spoilt as he was, an aging ex-rockstar, former alcoholic with barely two pennies to rub together. If he could mean something to Lacey, maybe he could figure out how to mean something to himself. Maybe he could be worthy, a better man than he was, a better father to Arianwen, better than his fucked up past.

Lacey turned off the radio. “I was exercising. But if you’re up for company, we can just hang out. Want a beer? I can grab some from my fridge.”

He winced inwardly. “Lacey… I can’t have alcohol. I’m AA.”

“Oh… well that explains why there’s no booze in here. Not that I went snooping or anything. I’m just very observant.” She plopped down on the edge of the bed, next to where he was perched. “You don’t have a TV, either, I noticed. So, what do ya’ do for fun around here, anyway?”

“I could think of a few things.” It was his opening gambit. His gaze slid to the side to gauge her reaction.

She flushed. “Lachlan… I do believe you’re trying to seduce me.”

He turned to fully face her. “Is it working?”

Her mouth twisted. “If you have to ask, I think you already know the answer.” She got up from the bed and exhaled loudly.

He rose as well, not wanting to be rejected while sitting down. "What happened to that neighborly invitation to dance?"

She flushed a darker red. "I was drunk. I should never have done that." Her gaze darted around the room before finally settling on his face. She licked her lips. "Look, it’s not that I haven’t thought about it.” Her eyes swept across him, lingering on his face, pelvis, torso and then back to his eyes. A warmth that had nothing to do with the weather rushed over him.  “I’m not just being nice when I say that I really… really have.” She crossed to the door. “But you’re just… you've turned out to be such a nice guy. I mean like genuinely sweet and… I don’t tend to do well with the good guys.”

“Because you’re not a nice girl.” He prompted, his voice sounding lower and a little rusty, even to himself.

She shook her head sadly. “Never have been, I guess. Just a… rotten apple or something. I don’t like hurting people, at least I don’t think I do… but it always ends up that way and I don’t want to end up… breaking you.”

He barked a resentful laugh. “Life beat you to that, sweetheart.” He closed the space between them. “I’m not nearly as nice or as fragile as you think I am.” He reached out, ready to withdraw at any sign he was truly unwelcome, and lightly gripped her chin, trailing his fingers over her slightly parted lips.

She inhaled shakily, her pupils dilating despite the afternoon sun. “I won’t be any good for you.” She breathed.

He could feel the heat of her words brush his lips as he bent down to her. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My muse finally struck! Hopefully she'll come back in time to write the sex scene!
> 
> Note for those not familiar with classic American TV: "Lacey I'm home!" is a reference to I Love Lucy, where her husband would announce "Lucy! I'm home!" the minute he walked in the door. I'ts been parodied and referenced a lot in American Pop culture, so I figured anyone living in the US would get the joke, even if they're not originally from here.


End file.
